


Necessity

by justlikedaylightsavingstime



Series: Supernatural Pairing Bingo [18]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bloodlust, Dean actually ends up quite liking Lenore, Dean is a hunter, F/M, Lenore is sick, although it might, not because it happens, spn pairing bingo, tagging character death because it's a major theme, you'll have to read and see
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-17
Updated: 2015-01-17
Packaged: 2018-03-07 22:35:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3185777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justlikedaylightsavingstime/pseuds/justlikedaylightsavingstime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has a difficult choice to make when Lenore suffers from severe blood loss. Not that there really is a choice, but that doesn’t make it any easier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Necessity

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Necessity  
> Pairing: Dean/Minor!Canon Creature (Lenore the vampire)  
> Type: Friendship  
> Rating: G/PG  
> Word Count: 1,115  
> Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or any related character.  
> Summary: Dean has a difficult choice to make when Lenore suffers from severe blood loss. Not that there really is a choice, but that doesn’t make it any easier.  
> Warnings: Mentions of blades, murder and hunting. I’m also going to tag for character death since that’s a major theme.
> 
> As always feedback/criticism/comments/requests/prompts are extremely welcome.

Written for the [2014 spn pairing bingo](http://spnpairingbingo.livejournal.com/).  
You can also read this on my [LJ account](http://roastspud.livejournal.com/9769.html).

****

“Dean I can’t do this.”

“Sure you can, just hold on until Sammy gets back. He’ll have everything you could possibly need.”

“No, it’s too much. I, I can’t!” Lenore’s cracked voice rang out across the room, playing on every protective instinct Dean had. But there was nothing he could possibly say in reply. Dammit, Sammy was so much better at this kind of stuff. And yet Dean had been the one to send him off for the blood, refusing to leave his little brother alone with a vicious killer.

He looked over at the poor girl, her whole body writhing and twisting with unadulterated pain. He had absolutely no idea when he’d stopped thinking of her as a vampire and started thinking of her as a girl. A part of him, the part that had been trained and groomed for the majority of his life, was demanding her blood. Vampire bad. Vampire monster. Hunter kill monster. But a bigger part was starting to think that maybe Sammy was right.

It didn’t mean that he was going to put his machete down, or turn his back on this volatile creature. In fact his hand was still firmly fixed on the smooth metal hand, clenching and unclenching with uncertainty. But his other hand was gripped in hers, soothing softly against the crackling skin as she let out gut wrenching moan after gut wrenching moan. Sometimes he’d used his other hand, the one with the machete, to stroke across her sweat drenched forehead. None of it helped, but he couldn’t be left doing nothing. Not when she kept staring at him with wide imploring eyes. It helped a little with the guilt, one way or another he was going to find away to make up for the terrible time he’d been giving her the past few days. He’d been continually testing her, getting in her face, demanding answers to why she’d come to them for help with her bloodloss problem.

She wasn’t going to last much longer. That much was certain. She was long past the point when she should have been pouncing on him, draining him dry as her body desperately clutched at what it needed. At this rate they had ten minutes at most before her body completely gave up, or her animal instinct won over and Dean became the next sacrifice on the vampire menu. She had more control than anybody he’d ever met, human or supernatural, even to make it this far. And the more time Dean spent with her, the more he found himself begrudgingly respecting her. He’d been there. He knew what blood did to vampires, how it fucked with their minds. At the time Dean hadn’t even been fully turned, was still in the weak stages. He couldn’t even begin to imagine the horrendous things going on in Lenore’s head right now.

Hell, he’d almost chowed down on Ben because he’d been a little peckish and that was absolutely unthinkable. And here Lenore was, refusing to even consider about attacking him, even though every molecule in her body was slowly breaking down and screaming out at her to feed. All he’d ever been to her was a threat, it should have been easy for her to pin him down and drag her teeth into his neck (not that he’d let her get that far, but bloodthirsty vampires weren’t exactly known for their rational thinking).

But it was getting to the time. They couldn’t keep her in this state for much longer. If it were possible the room seemed to get even darker at the thought. He was a hunter, this was his job. If Sam wasn’t there in the next few minutes then he was going to have to end it. Lenore understood. She was even begging him to do it for Christ’s sake. How many times did that happen in a hunter’s lifetime?  
But she was right, she was a killer. And ending the desperate pain in her eyes could only be a kindness at this point.

Once he made his decision that was that. He only took enough time to brush his lips against her feverish forehead and whisper a quiet apology. And with that he was Dean Winchester the hunter again. His body in a straight muscular line. Poised and ready. Blade standing tall in the air, reflecting the odd orange flash of a streetlight. He was steeling himself, brain going into overdrive trying to calculate the right position, the one that would cause the least pain. It was the least he could do.

He glanced back down, catching her begging eyes, almost breaking under their dark glow. He didn’t care what Dad would say. This isn’t right. It was never going to be right. The shine of her fags as they pulsated in and out of her gums and the bloodshot quality to her eyes proved that it was necessary, but not right. In one last desperate attempt he glanced towards the door again, silently begging Sam to turn the brass handle. But he didn’t. The only things moving in the room were his own chest and the horrible tremors ripping through Lenore’s muscles. This was it. Come on Winchester, man up. They couldn’t wait any more, soon she’d go feral and Dean wouldn’t be able to do anything. Someone else could get hurt in the crossfire. This was the easiest thing for everyone.

Dean closed his eyes tight shut, sure that her fearful eyes would be burned into his retinas for the rest of his days. This would forever haunt him. He was used to driving blades into monsters, even felt some satisfaction as the evil drained out of their eyes. But this was different. There was no evil here. Just suffering, and determination. It was necessary. Necessary. It didn’t have to be right. Because it was necessary. Come on Winchester.

His muscles tensed, then relaxed as they shifted the weight of the machete in his hand. The razor sharp blade swung through the air, slicing it with a jarring ringing noise as it obediently sped towards its target. This was it. At the last possible second, the point where it had just nicked Lenore’s pale white neck, Dean arrested the blades movement. The scratch of a key in the door was the most wondrous and welcome noise he’d ever heard.

Just one look at the relief, the hope in Lenore’s face had Dean almost in tears. They were saved. It was all going to be okay. Sam’s voice rang out into the silence of the darkened room. “I’m sorry I’m so late guys. Stealing blood from a hospital is harder than you would think.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come chat to me at justlikedaylightsavingtime.tumblr.com. Just like Lenore, I won't bite.


End file.
